


The Lamb's Caress

by dancey94



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Episode: s03e13 The Wrath of the Lamb, Hand Jobs, Love Confessions, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-09
Updated: 2017-05-09
Packaged: 2018-10-29 23:43:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,382
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10864584
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dancey94/pseuds/dancey94
Summary: Some paint their face before going to war. Will has another idea.





	The Lamb's Caress

In the middle of nowhere – that was where Will thought they were. The night fell upon the hill and the land around the house. The only sound was made by the waves of the Atlantic Ocean, outside. The only light was coming from the large living room in the house. They were isolated there, the only bright point in the vast dark space.

For a moment, Will felt like his soul left his body and moved away. He could see himself from afar, see his shape standing by the window, lost in thought. It was an out-of-body experience that would stay with him forever. That was the moment when he made his decision which determined his fate.

He was standing in front of a wall-sized window, observing the round silver sphere hanging in the sky. It was _that_ time of the month. Will’s mind was flooded with memories from the crime scenes, again. He was wondering if his body was destined to meet the same fate. Spread, with pieces of a broken mirror on his eyelids and his blood sprayed all over the room, perhaps on Hannibal’s body, too. Which one of them was going to play the role of the lady of the house? Or maybe both of them?

Before he managed to dive deeper inside his mind for the answers, he heard light footsteps behind him. His eyes regained focus and glanced at the reflection in the window. Hannibal was holding two glasses and a bottle of wine.

“You’re playing games with yourself in the dark of the moon.”

Will heard the familiar voice and slowly turned his head. He made a few steps away from the window, further inside the room, where Hannibal was standing by the piano and wiping the glasses with a dry piece of cloth.

“Wasn’t surprising that I heard from the Great Red Dragon,” Hannibal spoke without shifting his eyes towards Will. It seemed as if Lecter was completely focused on his task, putting down one glass and proceeding with wiping the other, yet Will could not believe the man didn’t notice when he approached him from behind, closer and closer. “Was it surprising when you heard from him?”

Will watched Hannibal straighten up when he was a mere inch away from Lecter’s back. The men’s scents mixed in such close proximity and Will could smell the soap and shampoo that Hannibal had used an hour ago. The clothes that had been lying in the wardrobe for a few years added to the peculiar scent.

The corner of Will’s lips rose as the man cherished that turn of the tables. Now Will was the one in control. He was the one stalking Hannibal like a pray and smelling him. And he could not deny that he loved it.

Will placed his hands on Hannibal’s shoulders, feeling the fabric of the jacket underneath his fingertips, while Hannibal stood still. The hands moved down, along the arms, caressing the sleeves. Will’s head hung and supported itself upon Hannibal’s neck. His nose touched the nape and Will took a deep breath, inhaling the scent in a very obscene manner.

“Yes and no,” Will answered in a seductive whisper and felt the skin on Hannibal’s neck get goose bumps, the hair standing up as if following an order.

The sea of emotions seemed calm. The waves low and inviting. Will closed his eyes, took another deep breath. As he exhaled, he smiled at the visible chills in Hannibal’s body. The shiver that ran through the spine, up and down, raising the hair higher and making the skin hot.

Hannibal put down the glass he was holding. Will wondered if he could make Hannibal drop it, bring him to the very edge of his senses. He wondered if he could make Hannibal careless. Then, he remembered every time he actually had managed to do that. Lecter could be careless; had been many times, almost every time because of Will.

“Do you intend to watch him kill me?”

Will pondered on that question. Did he want to see Hannibal being killed? No. He’d rather kill the man himself. With his hands. In a way that nobody could kill. Perhaps apart from Hannibal himself.

“I intend to watch him change you,” Will answered, slightly louder than before. His hands returned to Hannibal’s shoulders, thumbs hooked inside the collar and pulled until the jacket slid off and fell to the floor. The sweater Hannibal had underneath allowed better access and Will placed his lips on the man’s nape. His left hand moved to Hannibal’s front and raised the hem of the sweater. The right hand followed and reached for the button in Hannibal’s trousers.

“My compassion for you is inconvenient, Will.”

Will heard the struggle and the strain in Hannibal’s voice. The careful, gentle, yet restless hands on Hannibal’s body must have had that effect.

“If you’re partial to beef products, it is inconvenient to be compassionate toward a cow,” Will said, as if unmoved by what was happening, as if uncomprehending the real nature of Hannibal’s feelings for him, the true meaning of his words.

Hannibal could not help chuckling at the response but soon, Will’s hand reached inside Lecter’s underwear and felt the girth there, which was already thickening. With a gasp, Hannibal reached for the piano and clutched at the wooden surface.

“Don’t turn,” Will whispered and continued caressing Hannibal’s abdomen with his left hand and the cock with his right one.

“He’s watching us now.”

That was all Hannibal could utter in the mist of arousal clouding his judgement.

“I know,” Will responded before squeezing the flesh in his right hand. The stage of teasing was over.

The awareness that they were being observed added to the spiciness of the act and made Will wonder if maybe he went through with it exactly because that might have been his last chance. Their confrontation with the Dragon was inevitable and impending.

Hannibal’s breathing became laboured, every breath shallower and the need for air greater with Will’s every stroke. The gentle touch turned rough, the careful nibbling turned into sharp bites. Will was certain Hannibal did not mind. Even with the prospect of death looming over them, Lecter could not deny himself the pleasure offered by Will’s hands and lips. In fact, Will’s cock was not limp anymore, a sign that he, too, was enjoying the game.

Not a while passed before Will felt the tension rise in Hannibal’s body and then leave him in spasm, waves of pleasure and oblivion. Will had to press harder against Hannibal and hold him close so that Lecter would not fall as his knees gave in. The last encouraging kiss on the nape; then, Will helped Hannibal with the trousers, wiped his hand with a tissue, and they were almost ready.

Will reached for the bottle of wine standing on the piano and removed the cork with a loud pop.

Hannibal bent to lift the jacket, folded it and placed on the stool by the piano. Then, he reached for the glasses and held them while Will poured the wine.

“Save yourself, kill them all?” Hannibal asked with a smile that brightened up his face.

“I don’t know if I can save myself.”

Will wondered how the hell he managed to say that with a straight face. He looked down at the front of Hannibal’s pants and then up at the man’s face. The affection was there, palpable, but the mood passed. They were about to go to war.

“Maybe that’s just fine,” Will added and looked Hannibal in the eyes – the sad amber maroon eyes that had been haunting him since the first day he saw them.

“’No greater love hath man than to lay down his life for a friend’,” Hannibal quoted the Gospel of John and stepped away, with the glass of wine in his hand, turning his back to the window, where Will had previously stood. It occurred to Will that they constantly circled each other. The tables turned once again.

Then, just as Hannibal was raising the glass to his mouth, a bullet went through the window, shattering it to pieces, and reached Hannibal’s right side from behind.

The fight was about to start. The war about to begin.


End file.
